Chapter 5
Rori
Facing an early flight to my Texas tournament the day after the photo shoot, I pack all of my things for the trip.
Nina had Triumph rent me a hotel room in Miami starting tonight and, to cut down on all the back and forth, we booked my early flight tomorrow out of Miami International instead of the Tampa airport.
I check into the hotel at eight PM, excited when the receptionist confirms I have the penthouse. Apparently, Taylor worked her magic so that I’d get an upgraded room. I just need to post a couple of reels praising the hotel—no big deal.
As expected, the penthouse is gorgeous. Expansive rooms, water views in most areas, a huge balcony that you can go onto from multiple rooms. I film the videos quickly to get them out of the way, but it’s easy to share how amazing everything is.
“Knock, knock,” Nina says outside my hotel door at nine sharp the next morning, as I hear two light taps. Cute of her to say it while also literally knocking on the door.
“Hi, Nina,” I say as I open the door for her. “So glad you could make it down from New York for this.”
She walks in, looking chic and cool in a lilac-colored linen outfit, her assistant trailing behind with two big coffees.
“I was so excited that we got the Triumph deal pulled together for you, and I wanted to be here to make sure all goes smoothly. Plus, four other potential deals have come in.” She chuckles a little.
“You’re in hot demand! So I thought we could run through those proposals in your downtime during the shoot and see what interests you. ”
“Sure, sounds great,” I respond. I look down at what I’m wearing. Just a simple tank and denim shorts. “Do I need to change?”
“No, come as you are,” Nina says, waving her hand. “They will have a wardrobe planned for you and Johnson.”
I flinch a little internally. Not because I know anything bad about Johnson—but because doing a photo shoot with Landon’s teammate feels a little off. Awkward, maybe? Like I’m doing something wrong? None of which is logical, given we had a classic one-night stand and no one knows it happened.
“Are you both ready?” Nina’s assistant asks. “We’re due there at 9:30.”
“Yes, let’s get going if you’re ready, Rori,” Nina says. And with a pat on my back, she guides me to the door as I grab my key card and bag on the way out.
Forty minutes later, we’re in my dressing room at the photo shoot. I’m trying not to be nervous, knowing that I’m going to spend the day with Landon’s teammate. Hopefully, the photographer keeps things moving, and the day goes by quickly.
“Hi everyone, so great to have you here,” says a masculine voice from the direction of the door. It’s Nick, Triumph’s owner, who negotiated with Nina on my contract.
He walks over to me and squeezes my shoulder. “Rori, I can’t tell you how pleased we all are to have you representing us. That Australian run was fantastic. And I caught you on Kimmel, your story about the yogurt sundae was so funny.”
It really wasn’t that funny, but I appreciate his attempt to schmooze.
“Thank you, I’m excited to be part of Triumph’s new launch,” I reply. “I saw the samples that your team sent Nina. The pieces are so cute.”
“Well, we’ll have the wardrobe team and glam squad in here soon to get the process started. Nina, can I borrow you for a minute? Can you step outside with me?” He gestures towards the dressing room entrance and Nina nods. They both head outside and shut the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I sigh as I start turning over my lingering guilty feelings for ignoring Landon’s New Year’s message, brought to the surface again by this photo shoot with Johnson.
That night with him was by far the best sex I’ve ever had.
My times with Peter when we were young were more fumbling than satisfying.
Now when we hook up occasionally, it’s about scratching an itch.
My other random hook ups have left no impression at all. Fleeting fun, at best.
With Landon, the energy was completely different.
We couldn’t get enough of each other that night.
A little rest and a snack from the minibar in between and then one of us was reaching back for the other.
In fact, the last time we came together that night, he’d simply looked at me with raw heat in his eyes and that was enough for me to start kissing him again.
I felt drawn to him more intensely than I even knew was possible for a one-night stand.
Cut yourself some slack, I try to joke with myself. The man is brutally hot. To the point that legions of women obsess over him online.
Regardless, with the sacrifices I’ve made for my career and recovery, nothing can jeopardize my tennis. No distractions. No guy drama. This is my window to carve out my own piece of tennis history, however big or small.
Nothing is going to divert my attention right now. Including a text back-and-forth with an NFL star.
As I feel affirmed, and the guilt starts to recede again, the dressing room door swings open.
“Hi Miss Reilly,” comes a new voice with a hint of a Canadian accent. “I’m Clara, your makeup artist for the photo shoot.” Clara starts clucking around me as she welcomes in other members of my glam squad for the day.
While they’re making small talk, I check my phone and see a text from Julie to my dad and me.
“Updated for the clay court season schedule,” she says, with a link to an excel sheet with my tournament schedule for the year.
She’s added the clay court tournaments planned for May and June, culminating in the French Open.
In tennis, we play on three types of surfaces. Hard court, like the Australian Open and most U.S. tournaments. Grass, the traditional tennis surface, is used largely in England, including at Wimbledon. And then clay, for many other European tournaments, such as the French Open.
When switching surfaces for the next Slam, you usually play a few warm-up tournaments first so you can get used to the different footwork required and changes in the way the ball bounces.
I see that Julie has booked me for tournaments in Madrid and Rome before the big one at Roland Garros (aka the French Open).
No complaints, as I love Europe. But clay is my least favorite surface, and reflexively, I start assessing the small changes I’ll want to make during that part of the season.
“Hello there, everyone,” I hear Nina exclaim as she walks back into the dressing room and takes in the now large crew working on me.
“Rori, I do have some news from my conversation with Nick,” Nina says as she sits down in a chair near me. “It turns out that Johnson had a family emergency, so there’s been a change in plans.”
“Oh okay, no problem. Am I going to do the shoot by myself, then?” I ask.
“No, they found a substitute, another football player,” Nina explains. “He was at the party in New York, I think you might have met. It’s—”
“Me,” a familiar deep voice says from my open dressing room door.
I look up, and there he is. Taking up the entire door frame, with his hefty muscles popping out of a teal cotton shirt and white shorts. His curls are their normal length, looking like he had run his hand through them recently.
Landon. Grinning widely, with a twinkle in his eye.